r baby's eyes and lips
plead pardon for her father's unintentional sins.' They do; they
always shall. Cuthbert's own wonderful eyes shining in his
daughter's. My husband's own proud beautiful lips that kiss me so
fondly every time I press his child's mouth! At last I can thank God
that our baby is indeed her father's image; and because in death
Cuthbert is my own again, I can cherish the memory, and pray for the
soul of my husband! Kiss me, kiss me--oh, my darling!"

She kissed the girl's eyes and lips, held her off, gazing into her
face through gathering mist, then drew her again to her bosom, and
the long hoarded bitterness and agony found vent in a storm of sobs
and tears.

"I must sit joyless in my place; bereft
As trees that suddenly have dropped their leaves,
And dark as nights that have no moon."

CHAPTER XXXVI.

"Uncle Orme, are you awake?"

"My dear girl, what is the matter? Is Minnie ill?"

"No, sir; but this is mother's birthday, and, if you please, I want
you. There are a few late peaches hanging too high for my arms, and
such grape-clusters! just beyond my finger tips. Will you be so kind
as to gather them for me? I intended to ask you yesterday afternoon,
but mother kept me on the terrace until it was too late. I have not
heard you moving about? Do get up; the morning air is so delicious,
and the lake lies like a huge rose with crimped petals."

"You are a tormentingly early lark, chanting your hymns to sunrise,
when you should be sound asleep. You waked me in the midst of a
lovelier rose-coloured dream than your tiresome, stupid lake, and I
shall not excuse you for disturbing me. Where is that worthless,
black-eyed chattering monkey Giulio? Am I a boy to climb peach trees
this time of the day, for your amusement? Oh, the irreverence of
American youth!"

"Giulio has gone on a different errand, and I never should insult
your venerable years by asking you to climb trees, even in honour of
mother's birthday breakfast. You can easily reach all I want, and
then you may come back and finish your dream, and I will keep
breakfast waiting until you declare yourself ready. Here is the
basket, I am going out to the garden."

Regina ran down into the flower-plot at the rear of the house, and
after a little while she saw her uncle unencumbered by his coat,
bearing the basket on his arm and ascending one of the winding walks
that terraced the hill.

To her lifelong custom